Winter Moon in Hell
by Suttee
Summary: Divine providence decides to pit Hiko and Shishio, both steadfast in their principles, against each other in a battle of swordsmanship and wills. Set before the Kyoto Arc, this story delves into the reason Hiko did not help Kenshin tackle Shishio.
1. Intro

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all its characters don't belong to me and I will not bear responsibility for any accidental deaths or injuries caused to characters.

_New Note from Author: a__s promised, I've finally found a less cheesy name for the story title! (hopefully?)"Winter Moon" (Kikyousen Fuyutsuki) is thought to be the name of Hiko Seijuro's sword, the rough translation being "Winter Moon of Kikyou's Spirit" (W__hat a mouthful! No wonder he never mentioned it...)_

_I'm sorry that there has been some confusion regarding whether this story has anything to do with the official timeline at all. The answer is it does but in a… non-conventional way. The point of this fic is to throw the two of the most strongly-principled people in the RK storyline together and take a peek into their respective warped psychologies. Getting them in one place is a challenge, though, because one of them lives on a mountain and is generally apathetic about everything, while the other runs the Kyoto underworld and probably won't be enjoying nature a great deal (unless Hoji strikes an oil reserve there or something)._

_Regarding the fight with Shishio, Kenshin's master, Hiko Seijuro the 13th, is reported to have said the following:_

_"It'd be easiest to do it myself, but after all this time I'd rather not deal with the trouble." _

_Yeah, as if teaching Kenshin the final attack hasn't been a handful… but back to the point, exactly how much easier are things going to get, and on the other hand, how much "trouble" is Shishio going to pose? Will the last master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu prevail for the whole 15 minutes on his own, or…? Will the age finally choose Shishio, or is he destined to continue his Kuni Tori in Hell? It's high time we explore the possibilities…_

_(Time is set to be before the Kyoto Arc) _

* * *

**Winter Moon in Hell- Introduction**

A smooth gust of wind sent pale cherry petals tumbling down like translucent snow all over Kyoto.

In every alley and courtyard, children ran after the drifting flakes with tireless curiosity. On adults, they settled like a blizzard, sending a soft chill to souls with the ephemeral lightness of being…

In the mountain outside Kyoto, a lone white-cloaked man, sword bared, was performing a deadly dance amidst the falling blossoms. Eyes closed and long black hair swishing around as he swung his sword at a speed the human eye cannot follow, the man chuckled softly to himself. Not a soul alive knew that Hiko Seijuro, 13th master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, had a penchant for playing games with these frail petals. But indeed it was his love for them that honed his love for the sword in his younger days. He still remembered dancing in circles under the sakura trees, trying to fend away each flake, while his master, a tall stern silhouette, would scoff at his childish act in the distance…

_If only he could see me now_… the swordmaster's smirk grew more smug. Decades ago, he had already been able to cut every single falling petal with his sword before they could touch him. In recent years, however, he could accomplish this with the mere wind of his strikes alone--- a testament to his mastery of the art. He laughed at himself silently again. To think that he had raised Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, an art created to maim entire armies, to its highest level--- by decimating petals! The thought was somewhat ludicrous, but it'll do for a ludicrous world, Hiko decided. Unlike armies, sakura blossoms never bored him.

At times like these, however, the swordmaster almost wished there could be one more player in the game. His stupid student would never reach his level of finesse... _Great, I'll just shove them all in his direction... _Thought Hiko wickedly. That would give him ample opportunities to laugh at the redhead's expense while the latter unearthed himself from the mess...

He dismissed the thought before it could continue any further along its riotous path, though. Such was all wishful thinking now, wasn't it? The idiot had hurled himself into the chaos of the Bakumatsu, with all of his six years' training and youthful ideals. Even if he was still alive--- Hiko's ever-present smirk grew a little rueful--- he doubted his student could muster what little inner peace left in him to enjoy the simple beauty of the spring sakura ever again. But then again, it had been years since Hiko last heard of him. Or rather, heard of the Hitokiri Battousai.

_Baka deshi… _Hiko gave another halfhearted chuckle, as he thought of his dumb apprentice as the legend that would strike fear into ignorant masses for years to come. A last petal drifted down. Hiko's senses followed its inexorable downward spiral until it landed without a sound. _So nothing is left of him now but the memory of a bloody rain... _

Even so, as much as the swordmaster resigned himself to the truth, Kenshin as he remembered would always be that little boy whose hands buried both bandits and slavers with equanimity. The swordmaster gave a sigh. _Such is the madness of the age--- e__ven the strongest and noblest of hearts are crushed in vain. It has always been, and will always be so._

Such thoughts were too sobering for a bright spring morning with a sea of sakura beckoning. Shealthing his sword and tucking it into his belt, Hiko's left hand reached his sake jug on automatic, and filled a cup in his right hand to the brim with practised precision. As he snapped his eyes open for the first time after the morning exercise, the whole world around him suddenly changed…

* * *

_(In another place...)_

Suzuki Kato never thought he would live to see Kyoto again.

A week ago, he had left the city, along with twenty other undercover policemen, on a mission to infiltrate the fallen Shingetsu Village. Yet what met them was an ambush led by Senkaku, a monstrous man holding sway over the village. Kato fought bravely, taking down several of Senkaku's soldiers, but was knocked out cold and captured. What happened to his comrades he did not know, but as he stirred from his unconsciousness to a drugged stupor, he found himself bound, gagged, and crammed inside the dark enclosed space of what seemed like a container. Only the shuddering of his confinement informed him that he was being transported somewhere.

What made his predicament all the more painful was that he knew he was back in Kyoto--- the smooth stone tiles he sensed going over and the bustle of the market around him were abundant evidence. Yet try as he might, he could not make a sound, let alone struggle out of the ropes that bound him. He could not help suppressing a chill when he thought of the mastermind of the whole affair--- transporting police captives through the main streets of Kyoto, and in broad daylight no less, said as much for the blatant boldness of the man behind all this.

The question of what such a man would want with him made Kato's blood run even colder.

When he awoke again, he found himself sitting against the wall of a room. Unfamiliar dark fabric clung to his face and body. Someone had changed his garb and donned a mask on him while he slept.

"Suzuki-san, is it?" A cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts. Kato noticed for the first time a young man, no more than a teenager, sitting against the opposite wall. He was clad in a blue gi with a white collared shirt underneath, complete with a matching blue hakama. The youth's sunny expression and wide smile looked eerily out of place to Kato. "So you're up finally! I am Seta Soujiro, your escort… now follow me, if you please."

"Where am I?"

"Mou… there's no need to be impatient. You'll find out soon enough." The boy slid open the shoji door, revealing a dark corridor leading to a stairway. Unsure of his surroundings and unable to deduce much from the boy's demeanor, Kato followed.

After mounting an uncountable number of stairs, he was led through two massive doors into a magnificent square, gleaming under a brilliant sun. It took a while for Kato's eyes to adjust well enough and see a lone figure sitting on a chair at the other end of the square, and a bizarre sight it was indeed: the man was clad in a kimono of royal purple, and under that, swathed in countless bandages that seemed to cover every inch of his body. Kato's eyes widened in sudden realization.

"Shishio-sama, I have brought Suzuki-san." Said his escort.

"So the rumors are true." Said Kato. "The shadow hitokiri of the Bakumatsu, Shishio Makoto, is not only alive but running the Kyoto underworld… yet what do you want with me, a humble policeman? I have no information worth your time torturing it out of me."

"So finally, they sent someone less ignorant." Said the bandaged figure approvingly. "Suzuki Kato of the second squad of the Information Agency… I've heard that you are a good fighter…"

Kato was dumbfounded. Did this man, the shadow hitokiri whose prowess was said to be equal to the legendary Hitokiri Battousai himself, want to challenge him to a duel? As much as he summoned up his dignity, his teeth began to clatter. "I… I would rather die before I let you toy with me!"

"Toy with you?" Shishio repeated, amused. "well, maybe if you train for another lifetime… However your skills may be adequate enough to interest me. To find out about that, I have arranged for you some opponents… if you can kill them all, I will spare your life."

"There… there's no reason for me to believe you." The policeman, his breath ragged with the effort of control.

"I give you my samurai's word." Said Shishio. "Well? Whether you take it or not, it's not my problem."

"Shishio-sama is being very generous." Soujiro, the boy, chirped behind him. "It'll be best to take his offer, Suzuki-san."

Kato swallowed hard. He knew he won't stand a chance in Hell of defeating Shishio. But if the worst should come to pass, he refused to die without taking out a few of Shishio's men.

"All right... I accept." He rasped. Shishio tossed a sheathed sword towards him. Kato recognized it as his police sword, and picked it up. Its familiar weight brought him some reassurance. _At the least, _He thought grimly. _I will die by the sword..._

Shishio gave a clap. The boy opened the doors behind Kato again, and led two men in. They were dressed and masked in a way similar to Kato, but with swords at their sides. Upon seeing Kato, the two instinctively drew their blades.

"The first round." The ex- hitokiri issued the command with glee. "Begin!"

Wasting no time, Kato charged forward with his blade held high.

The ex-hitokiri watched the ensuing fight with half an eye. As he had expected, Kato was more than enough to dispatch the two specimens he sent at him. Before the policeman could regain his breath, though, Shishio signaled for Soujiro to send more opponents in for Kato. It was until the red mist in front of Kato's eyes cleared when he discovered himself standing amidst a battlefield littered with the slashed bodies of eight opponents. Shishio had stopped sending in more foes, but was watching him with bemused red eyes.

Kato could hardly believe he had triumphed. Whether Shishio intended to keep his word or not did not even matter to him anymore. As far as he was concerned he could die that instant with honor.

"Hmm… not bad." The lazy voice of Shishio drifted into his head. "As promised, I will spare your life."

"What?" Kato spoke for the first time after his ordeal. His voice was soft and slurred, like that of one rudely awakened from a dream.

"From now on, you are fit to serve as a soldier under my command." Shishio announced with a smirk.

It all finally dawned on Kato. "That… that's preposterous!" He cried, surprised by the hoarseness in his voice. "I am a police officer. My loyalty belong to the government alone. There's no way I will ever defect…"

"Loyalty?" Shishio gave an amused sneer. "Anyone who believes in loyalty, is a hypocrite. Loyalty will never get you anywhere as far as your skills, that is the truth everyone understands. If you are indeed loyal," He gave a almost maniacal chortle. "Why did you kill all your fellow policemen?"

Kato suddenly felt invisible bends tightening around his chest with every breath. Ripping off his mask, he stumbled towards one of the fallen bodies, tearing off its mask franatically. "No… that can't be true…" Yet, long before he gazed upon the pale dead face he knew Shishio was telling the truth. The ex-hitokiri and Soujirou's laughter assaulted his ears. Kato's blade almost slipped from his hands, but rising rage made him grip it with determination. "You… you tricked me?"

"Pardon?" Gasped Shishio, who was still trying to recover from his bout of laughter. "I never made the effort to trick you. You were the one who never asked who your opponents were…because at that moment you, too, realized the naked truth: that chaos is the natural order and that survival is for the fittest. It was your skills and not your allegiance to the police that saved you back then, was it not?"

Soujirou clapped enthusiastically, his cheerful demeanor in stark contrast to the gory scene before him. Kato grated his teeth through tears of shame and denial, his knuckles turning pale white over the sword handle. "I'll take you to Hell with me, you demon!" He screamed as he shot forward, boots kicking up a fine spray of blood. Shishio rose from his seat.

"This is getting old, Soujiro." He said, tossing a sword to the teenager. "Finish him for me. After all, I did promise to spare his life."

Soujiro caught the sword easily, but made no inclination to move. To Kato's delight, he was closing in on Shishio, who had turned his back on him, seemingly unaware of the policeman's thunderous approach.

As Kato raised his sword to strike, his vengeful spirit was overcome by amazement, then horror, as his arm sagged and fell, literally, hitting the ground. It was as if an invisible hand had drawn a thin red line around his shoulder and detached his limb so fast that he could not even sense the pain. He whirled around on automatic and was greeted by empty air. _Impossible! _Kato gasped more from disbelieve than the burning pain at his from the stump that was left of his arm.

He swung around again and scanned the area ahead frantically. Just a few meters away, Shishio was still walking away nonchalantly. As Kato hesitated, a searing pain burned down his left shoulder as his other arm detached, seemingly by magic, and, before he could scream, his legs also flew off from under him.

_What devilry is this?… _was his last though before his face hit the puddle of blood and limbs under him.

"Count yourself fortunate." Said Shishio. "It'd be a pity to let you die without knowing how weak you truly were."

"Shishio-sama?" Soujiro reappeared, smiling, by the fallen warrior's side. "What a shame… this one didn't even last as long as the earlier ones."

"What a pathetic government indeed," sighed Shishio. "If that's all they have left to throw at me. No, wait. They still haven't unleashed the former Shinsengumi dog, Saitou Hajime. Unless I'm mistaken, he should be showing up pretty soon."

"You think the Meiji government will send him to assassinate you?"

"Perhaps." Said Shishio. "But Okubo Toshimichi, who knows me well, will surely come up with something more fitting than that… Perhaps I will finally meet with my predecessor, Himura the Battousai."

"Heh… " Soujiro's face lit up. "Himura-san is very strong, isn't he?"

"I don't know." Mused Shishio. "I heard rumors that he doesn't kill anymore."

"Why would Himura-san believe in something so childish if he's so strong?" Soujiro asked, puzzled.

"Who knows? It's not a lie he can believe in for very long. Anyway, Okubo will pay him a visit soon. It may, however, not be enough to convince my predecessor to take up the sword again. That is why I want you, Soujiro, to take care of a few matters in Tokyo for me."

"To challenge Himura-san?" exclaimed Soujiro hopefully. "To think that I will meet your predecessor, Shishio-sama! I am excited indeed."

_A Hitokiri who does not kill?_ Thought Shishio with a sadistic smirk. _I fear that he will not be much of a match, even for Soujiro… _

_The true nature of men is violence, and the hitokiri, who is the above them all, lives to embody this decree. To stop killing is to ignore the truth!_

_Feh, perhaps he still lives with the delusion of Meiji's success… in that case, I will show him the truth by killing Okubo. That should be enough to clear his head of that nonsense and send him this way... _

A gust of wind, carrying a sakura petal, gushed past. Suddenly, a strong ki that materialized out of nowhere overwhelmed Shishio's acute swordman's senses. His red eyes narrowed.

"Shishio-sama?" Soujiro repeated, confused by his master's change in demeanor.

"Soujiro. We have an uninvited guest." Shishio replied slowly, as he gazed across the blood-strewn square. A extremely tall man, clad in an enormous white mantle that fell to his knees, was standing at the other end, holding a cup of sake in his right hand. Despite his youthful face, his ki told Shishio that the man was much older than he looked.

For a moment, both parties were so preoccupied with staring at each other in shock that not a snide comment was made on either ugly bandages or the ridiculous-looking red collar.

* * *

_(To be continued… )_


	2. Heavenly Challenge

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all its characters don't belong to me and I will not bear responsibility for any accidental deaths or injuries caused to characters.

**Heavenly Challenge**

"_The one who triumphs will be the one to decide the age!" _A voice from nowhere interrupted the thoughts of the two frozen parties.

Soujiro jumped a meter, and peered around nervously. Hiko and Shishio did not take their eyes off each other, but looked no less confused. Failing to locate the source of the voice, the churning of private speculations in respective minds resumed.

_What on earth did that mean? And how did I even get here? _Fumed Hiko. He was still holding his cup of sake, although he didn't particularly feel like drinking it anymore… not with the pungent scent of blood suffusing the air. He studied the carnage before him briefly. The wounds on the fallen indicated that all of them, save one, were done in by a sloppy fighter. The one that was an exception had multiple injuries, each dealt from a different direction. _This killer is vastly superior in speed and skill…and with a rare talent too, I suspect… _thought the swordmaster.

He turned his attention back to his company.

The one swathed in bandages emanated a tremendously vibrant ki... one almost white-hot in intensity. Hiko had sensed this kind of ki on the battlefield before, but never for more than a few minutes. _Such powerful will and desperation! _He thought approvingly. _This kind of spirit can only come from one treading the thin line between life and death… _

The boy beside the mummified swordsman was a completely different story. The swordmaster couldn't sense a single trace of a warrior's spirit in him. Yet, the boy did not have the uncontrolled emotions of an amateur--- there was nothing coming from him save gaiety. _Very odd indeed… _He thought.

He also noticed that the boy was holding a bloodied sword. _How depraved... _His thoughts turned to disgust. _So this is what the world has come to--- even those who have no swordsman's will have to resort to chaos… _He sighed and gave a mental shrug. _Well, I guess that no longer surprises me… _

Shishio's sharp features were composed in earnest thought. Having fought many of Japan's finest warriors, he could tell, just by the way an opponent put his ki on edge, how skilled that person was in reading Shishio himself. Yet the ki of the man before him was so laid back that for a moment, Shishio wondered whether the man sensed him at all. Even the ex-hitokiri could not fathom how any foe could possibly face him without adopting a modicum of caution.

_This man must either be extremely stupid… or extremely confident… _He surmised. _OR he might just be so strong that he can afford to be lax…_

The third possibility stirred Shishio's blood with excitement. _I have pitted many warriors against each other in this arena, _He thought, remembering the voice he heard after the stranger had materialized. _The one who triumphs will be the one to decide the age, huh? God himself must have sent me the strongest fighter alive, so that I can personally defeat him and take Japan into my own hands. _

_That's it. There can be no other explanation! _

Soujiro was the first to speak.

"Hehe… you must be pretty skilled to get past all the guards." He giggled at Hiko. "I guess that means we need to be more careful in the future."

"Soujiro." Shishio silenced the Tenken. His eyes seemed to burn through Hiko. "Who are you?"

"A humble potter who has no wish to do business with you." Came the blunt reply.

Shishio's only response was a twinkle of amusement in his red eyes. "Why are you here, then?"

"I should be the one asking this question." Said the 13th inheritor of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu haughtily. "I was minding my own affairs when you two and this whole damn place intruded into my personal space."

"Mou, mou…" Laughed Soujiro. "You sure are a rude guest…"

"As you are a rude host." Said Hiko, eyeing the carnage with distaste.

"You're here for a reason." Said Shishio.

"I don't care."

"That's fine with me. But it would be a shame for you to die without knowing why."

"My only shame is in not being able to enjoy sake in peace." Hiko snapped back. "But I guess I cannot expect too much when I run into fools at every corner."

"Sake is only good enough for escapists." Said Shishio, noting with glee a twitch in his adversary's eyebrow. "The only drink fit for a warrior is the blood of his enemies… and yours call out to me like a fine wine." He turned to his young henchman. "Soujiro, I want you to sample his wine for me… in return, show him your Shukuchi."

Soujiro's childish features shone with enthusiasm as he skipped lightly on one foot.

"Potter-san, is it?" He remarked to Hiko earnestly. "I haven't had sake before, but if it doesn't make you stronger, then it's a mistake to drink it. After all, you'll only end up as food for the stronger."

"What I drink is none of your…" Hiko never finished his sentence. Soujiro had disappeared from a standing start, hurtling towards the swordmaster. He was so swift that for a moment his feet left seemingly frozen depressions in the blood across the square. In the next second, the puddles splattered outwards in arrow shapes simultaneously, all pointing towards Hiko. With velocity surpassing god-speed, Soujiro swung his blade sideways at the swordmaster to cleave his waist in a spray of blood.

Yet before that could happen, the blade had smacked into something like a wall. The momentum threw Soujiro off balance, causing him to teeter precariously on his right foot. To his disbelief, the man in the white cloak had caught his blade with two fingers, seemingly with no effort. The recoil hit Soujiro's arm with such impact that the Tenken's numb hand almost slipped off of his sword.

For a moment, urgent signals overwhelmed Soujiro's brain. _I can't let go of my sword! The only thing that can save me is my sword and Shishio-sama's truth!_

In that split second, the Tenken's lithe body was drenched in cold sweat that he had not felt in ages, and he almost fainted. Surprisingly, he managed to pull himself together swiftly. Teeth ground and pale face contorted with effort, he dug his heels into the ground and pulled at his sword with every ounce of strength left in his thin body.

Hiko's smug smirk was replaced by a look of surprise as he watched the boy tug doggedly at the sword, like a mouse trying to uproot a carrot. It took the older swordsman all his strength to get a grip on his composure. _What's wrong with this kid? _He snickered. _Even my baka deshi won't be caught doing something so dumb... _

He watched Soujiro give another mighty tug. _Surely, any sane person would have made a run for it by now…? _He thought, struggling to swallow his chortle. _And why on earth is he smiling anyway?_

Unable to stand it anymore, Hiko finally decided to release the sword just as Soujiro gave it his next determined tug.

With a cry of surprise, the Tenken flew backwards with more velocity than he'd have liked, a fact not helped by the timely smash of Hiko's boot into his stomach area. In a smooth sequence that would have won an Olympic medal if he had done it backwards, the young swordman traced a graceful arc through the air, landing a little less gracefully on his butt, followed by the back of his head meeting the ground with a smack. Then he was out cold like a dropped sack of rice.

There was a brief silence as Hiko and Shishio both studied the horrified grin still plastered on Soujiro's face in awe (albeit for different reasons).

Hiko looked at the sleeping teenager, lost in his thoughts. _What lousy defense! _He thought critically. _My baka deshi, although slower, is much better than that… but of course that is to be expected with a great master… _He interrupted his train of thoughts angrily. _What am I thinking about? That baka may be dead for all I know… a fighter of this boy's caliber could have killed him. He relies too much on reading his opponents' emotions… but damn, why should I even care? Dealing with stupid people is making me remember things… _

Shishio, on the other hand, was exuberant. The ex-hitokiri was fairly confident that he could intercept Soujiro's sword as well. However, even Shishio himself doubted that he could bring it to a complete stop, and with two fingers alone. Amazingly, his opponent had just done that, as well as brought down the Sword of Heaven, without drawing his sword to display a single move.

AND, most impressively, his opponent hadn't even spilt a drop of sake.

_Incredible. _

The potential strength of this man made Shishio shiver with savage glee. _Finally… someone fit to challenge my full prowess! _He exulted. _Yet, no matter how strong he is, I will surely find a weakness somewhere… after all, no one surpasses me as a predator! From this moment onwards, any mistake he makes will make him, and Japan, my feast…_

_(To be continued…)_


	3. Welcome to Hell

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all its characters don't belong to me and I will not bear responsibility for any accidental deaths or injuries caused to characters.

_I am really grateful for all your comments! I'm sorry that there has been some confusion regarding whether this story has anything to do with the official timeline at all. The answer is it does but in a… non-conventional way. The point of this fic is to throw the two of the most strongly-principled people in the RK storyline together and put them through the wringer, and it doesn't help when one of them lives on a mountain and is generally apathetic about everything while the other runs the Kyoto underworld and probably won't be enjoying nature a great deal unless Hoji strikes an oil reserve there or something._

_Anyway, thanks a lot again for your support! I have exams the next week so please hang in there…_

**Welcome to Hell**

Shishio broke the silence. "To sense your opponent by the wind of his blade alone… you are truly one who has mastered the art." He appraised.

"To send a follower to test the strength of a foe… you are certainly a ruthless master." Answered Hiko, pouring his sake back into the jug at his side. "Nevertheless, that's the first intelligent thing I've heard you say. Be thankful that I have long since transferred my attention to loftier pursuits. Farewell."

Folding his arms leisurely, Shishio made no movement as he watched white-caped swordsman leave.

Hiko pulled open the stone doors leading to the outside of the arena with minimal effort, then stopped with surprise as his boot hit something in the air.

"An invisible barrier…?"

"Yare yare…" Shishio smirked. "Like I said, you should have listened to my explanation earlier on. You're here because the Kami-sama himself has seen fit to prove me the strongest warrior, so that I can take over this pathetic little country. Therefore, technically you cannot leave until one of us is triumphant and the other one dead."

"Take over this country?" Snorted Hiko. "Another Shogunate or Shinsengumi relic, are you? Well, I have no interest in hearing you whine. Whatever government in charge now is none of my business."

"You're mistaken. I am one of the shadow hitokiris who raised this country to its momentary greatness, only to watch it slowly fall into its current complacency and submission." Scoffed Shishio. "I have every right to take back what I have created in the first place."

Hiko turned around. For the first time, the ex-hitokiri noted a subtle change in his opponent's ki. The way the white-caped man glanced at him seemed to have something other than hostility.

"The Meiji government did this to you?" said the swordmaster, with barely concealed distaste.

"What's wrong?" Laughed Shishio. "To cover its bloody past, they would do anything to silence those who did the dirty work. I like that spirit. Their only mistake is that I was simply too strong to die. Anyway, I have learned a lot from them, and that's the only thing that counts."

"I see. Well I guess that's not too surprising." Admitted Hiko. Shishio detected a flicker in his opponent's ki again. _Concern? _

_So Kenshin is dead after all, _Thought Hiko bitterly. _And this man here probably went through everything Kenshin did to become what he is now…_

"Enough of introductions." Concluded Shishio, dragging the blade of his Mugenjin on the ground to ignite his sword. "You are obviously a little less naïve about the government than most people I've met, but that doesn't change the fact that I need to kill you."

"Hmm… kill me just to take over this country?" Sniffed Hiko. "That's going to a lot of trouble."

"No, that's just a bonus," Sneered Shishio, swinging his sword at Hiko. A tongue of flame shot out of his sword in a spiraling arc. "Now let my _Homura dama _taste your flesh!"

Hiko mostly ignored the fiery snakes speeding towards him, focusing on Shishio's sword. _Cheap distractions… _He thought with disdain, as he ducked under the flames and watched them blew past him. _This kind of flame won't scare a potter…_

Shishio realized just as quickly that his opponent didn't seem to be fazed by his new invention. Abandoning his attempt to stab Hiko while he's off guard, he sent several more flame demons in Hiko's way.

"Only a man who can't control his sword will let the uncontrolled elements do his work." Taunted Hiko, as he dodged the demons with un-urgent god-speed.

_He is clearly holding back,_ Shishio rubbed his chin thoughtfully, red eyes studying the master swordsman before him as the flames died down. _He seems to be toying with me, but… _

The ex-hitokiri smirked. The theory he came up with might cost him his life, but he has a pretty good hunch that it would work. Swinging his sword with swift multiple slashes, the _Homura dama _conjured by Mugenjin seemed to weave themselves together into a net that burned towards Hiko in a tightening ring. _Let's see him dodge this one. _Thought Shishio, as he followed behind the crackling tongues to slash his enemy through them. _There's no way he can come out of this unscathed! _

Smirking, Hiko yanked his wooden-sheathed sword from his belt unhurriedly, and gave it a casual swing, generating a ripping wind that instantly sent Shishio's fire demons spluttering to the ground. Then he drew an inch of his blade and blocked the incoming strike. A grating metallic sound rang out, followed by Shishio leaping backwards out of the fray.

Landing gracefully, Shishio examined his sword thoughtfully. He had used more than half of his strength in the strike, yet his opponent had chipped the Mugenjin without breaking a sweat. _What demonic strength! This man can cleave through my sword if he really tries…_

On the other hand, Hiko was secretly impressed. Shishio's strength far surpassed a man of his build. The swordsmaster had to actually put some effort into the block, which hadn't even happened with his own student. _What a tremendous willpower! _He marveled. _No wonder he survived what my student could not… _

"I have no interest in playing around with you any more." Said Hiko, finally. "You think you can defeat me with this kind of swordsmanship? That's a waste of time. Because you suffered greatly, you invented a style in which every stroke is designed to terrify and maim your opponent before killing him. You ignore the fact that the sword's true purpose is to kill. That slows you down and creates openings. You may try to obscure them with flame trails, but even a simple potter trained to work with fire can see right through them."

If anything, Shishio did not appear remotely disturbed by Hiko's assessment. Hiko could sense the man's smoldering eyes trained on him like that of a poisonous snake, analyzing his every expression. _His moves may be impractical, _Thought Hiko. _but this man is a swordsman of the highest caliber when it comes to reading people…_

"Brilliant analysis. However, that's my style and I intend to keep it that way." Said the ex-hitokiri casually. "However, you are the one who made the gravest mistake of all…"

Before he finished his sentence, Shishio charged at Hiko again, his long sword spitting out multiple flame spirits.

_The same move? This guy is starting to annoy me… _Cutting down the flames with a stroke, Hiko dodged the swing, reappeared behind Shishio, and brought his wooden sheathe down on Shishio's left shoulder without enthusiasm. There was a sickening crunch as Shishio's shoulder shattered under the impact. The mighty hitokiri went down on one knee.

However, the pain was nowhere near that needed to faze him--- the adrenaline pumping in his blood only screamed for more abuse. Nevertheless, Shishio forced himself to stagger back a couple of steps, grinning maniacally. Even Hiko was starting to be remotely disturbed.

"Now, if you don't want to lose your precious sword arm, sit down and behave." Hiko commanded in a deadpan tone.

Ignoring him, Shishio began laughing more and more uncontrollably. "What's wrong?" He giggled. "Have you forgotten how to kill a guy? If you don't kill me, I'm going to kill you, it's as simple as that."

"Kill me? Don't kid me…" Said Hiko with contempt. "I have no reason to kill a pathetic punk who doesn't even pose a threat to me."

Pulling himself together from the bout of laughing, Shishio raised his sword and let it clatter to the ground with a dramatic gesture. He then walked casually towards Hiko, who watched him with no expression.

"Well then smash my other shoulder too, will you?" He sneered. "Then cut off both my legs like what we did to that pathetic policeman lying over there. That will give you a lot less trouble in the long run," He said, his tone now serious. "Because nothing short of death will stop me from coming at you. I will not be satiated until I have torn your living flesh off with my teeth piece by piece."

"Well then, keep trying." Snapped Hiko, turning his back on Shishio in a bored fashion. "Do you think I can't see your major weakness? To generate that kind of frantic strength and speed will require a body temperature that teethers between life and death. Your body will reach its limit and give out long before you can even come close to touching me."

Shishio appeared to consider this.

"Good of you to point that out, potter. Time does fly so quickly when one's enjoying oneself." He agreed. To Hiko's surprise, the assassin turned around, walked towards one of the corpses, and sat down on it without ceremony. " I guess it's high time I take a break." He closed his eyes mockingly. "However, you are not the only one who can read people here… My weakness happens to be the source of my strength. Your strength, on the other hand, is the source of your weakness."

Even the great Hiko started at the comment. _Indeed, this man can see right through me…_He thought.

Shishio began, "In truth, you are a pathetic being indeed. Your skills are unparalleled, yet you are virtually a nobody in this country as far as I know. Only someone who no longer believes that his sword can make a difference will become a mundane potter. You have no allegiance to our sweet little Meiji illusion, the simple-minded Shinsengumi or the Shogunate factors. This is because you have killed so many people that like me, garbage like right and wrong, good and evil, really don't matter anymore."

"Because you are so much stronger, you can never bring yourself to see me, or anyone for that matter, as a true opponent. Your life is never in any danger, so you no longer even need to kill for self-defense. AND, winning is hardly a challenge to you, so the thrill of battle has become utterly meaningless. Hell, your life must be truly boring!"

The swordmaster made no response, but Shishio could sense a tremor in his opponent's ki. He continued:

"When I told you what the government did to me, what happened? You pitied me. You are the only person who has seen me as a human being… no more and no less. Someone who sees his opponent as a human will inevitably detest killing. You cannot bring yourself to kill me--- even if you must do so to leave this place--- because I too, am just doing what I can to survive. That is your fatal weakness… and the only way you can hide it is by pretending you don't care about a single soul. For a man with such principles to have so much strength, it is truly a contradiction."

This was followed by a long silence. Shishio's grin grew wider by the minute.

Hiko finally spoke. "You make far too many wild assumptions." He said, his voice strangely calm. "There are, in truth, no contradictions between my strength and my principles. Such speculations are best kept to yourself if you know what's good for you."

"You know very well why I told you." Said Shishio smoothly. "Why?… Now that I've told you who you are, you'll never be able to kill me, because I am the only one in this world who truly understands you."

Another pause.

"For once, you may be right." Hiko agreed, turning around.

His mask of arrogant coolness had disappeared. A pensive smile with something approaching relief was in place of his usual smug smirk, accentuated by a jaded look of weariness in his ebony eyes.

_I have finally cracked him…_ reveled Shishio, eyes glowing madly at his triumph.

"Good.": Snickered the ex-hitokiri. "I knew we should have talked like civilized men a lot earlier."

"You and I both know we live in Hell." He pushed on, getting more animated by the second. "The strong will feed on the weak, and all live in never-ending violence. Yet unlike the strong, you don't prey on the weak. Neither do you offer yourself as food ..."

He suddenly jumped up, yelling at Hiko loudly. "… that is why one like you who doesn't serve a purpose is worse than anything else! In Hell, there is a word for the likes of you, and that word is 'trash'!"

The caped swordsman only smiled faintly, as if amused. "Trash?… you are a blunt man… but the way you put things is very much my style…"

"Yes… nothing but trash. " Repeated Shishio, "… You are a mistake, a waste of my Hell's space and resources! And my duty to this age is to make you useful….Now, become my food or make me yours! Either way, you can't escape your part in this Hell!"

_A predator with compassion, huh? Even a pack of puny harpooners can eventually overcome a whale. As long as I can predict him, it's only a matter of time for me to bring him down, then his strength will become all mine! Yes, welcome to Hell…_

_(To be continued…)_


	4. Food for Thought

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all its characters don't belong to me

_Author's note: My account cannot connect to my email for some reason, so if you have sent me a message and I didn't reply, please don't be mad…_

_Actually, I think my account can't send messages or alerts as well... I wonder what is wrong with it. _

_I'll try to think of a better title and description for this fic soon…something other than "Two twisted guys stuck in one place", of course... Any advice will be appreciated!_

_Once again, many thanks for your support!_

* * *

**Food for Thought**

Shishio had nothing left to fear. Now that he could foresee his opponent's every move, even the seemingly invincible swordsman before him had become no more than a worm to be crushed underfoot.

The ex-hitokiri advanced towards Hiko menacingly. As he had expected, Hiko took a step back.

"What's the matter?" Shishio taunted, grinning widely. "Afraid of hurting an unarmed weakling like me?"

Laughing, he threw himself at Hiko, who merely used his god-like speed to disappear and reappear behind Shishio.

"Where are you running to, trash? There's nowhere to go until one of us dies!" Shishio shouted in glee. He turned towards Hiko again. "Now kill me and take over this Hell!"

The white-caped swordsman prepared himself to dodge again, only to see Shishio drop down on all fours before him. Completely oblivious to Hiko, the ex-hitokiri started lapping up blood from the ground with his tongue like a cat. Even Hiko was aghast.

"What's the surprise for? I'm thirsty." Said Shishio bluntly. "Don't you want some? There's plenty more where it came from--- " He chuckled, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "--- but of course you can't bring yourself to do that, can you?"

He laughed again, smacking his lips. "Fine, I'll just have more of it while I wait for you to die of thirst."

"Wonderful," Muttered Hiko, as he walked away from the sight in disgust. "Another new addition to the list of stupid things I've seen…"

"It doesn't taste half bad either!" Shishio called out after the swordsman, unabashed.

Ignoring Shishio's loud slurping, Hiko walked to the opposite side of the arena. Carefully arranging his white mantle behind him, he sat down next to the still out-cold Soujiro, his back to Shishio.

The ex-hitokiri gloated silently as he finished quenching his thirst. He could tell that his quarry was starting to get upset.

_And I'm only just starting… _He smirked.

With his Mugenjin, he chopped off an arm from a corpse with a single blow. Dangling the limb high above his head, he casually poured more blood into his mouth. "Mmm… now that's more like it." He slurped approvingly. " Aren't you thirsty, trash? This stuff, unlike your measly sake, actually makes me stronger. Why don't you come get some? I know you want my blood just as badly! Haha…"

Hiko gave no indication of having heard him. Undaunted, Shishio tossed the arm behind him and started stripping police uniforms from the corpses, tossing them into a pile and setting them alight with his sword. Hiko broke the silence.

"Have some respect for the dead." He said, his tone deadpan. "You never know when you'll join them."

"Join them?" Chuckled Shishio. "I'm far more practical than that… in fact, they are the ones who will be joining me. How else am I supposed to keep up my strength to fight with you later?"

As if to illustrate his point, he skewered the arm he had been drinking from earlier, propped it against a body, and started roasting it. Then the ex-hitokiri cushioned his head on another corpse to take a nap.

Truth be told, Shishio had never enjoyed himself so much in a fight before. He was unable to touch his enemy yet--- at least not physically. But his enemy, apathetic to him, did not pose a threat either. Shishio was in no hurry to issue a direct challenge. His mind was already busy planning ahead:_ I can eat while he must starve,_ he thought. _And I can sleep whereas he has to stay on guard… In a few days, even he will become too weak and tired to fend me off… _

The crackling of flames under dripping human fat soon roused him from his slumber. He turned to Hiko again. "Are you sure you don't want a bite?" He gave the roasted arm a wave. "It seems that my rather useless flames have put these weaklings to good use after all."

He bit off a big chunk of meat triumphantly. "Hmm, but of course you're too proud for that…Why someone as useless as you even bothers to stay alive is really beyond me."

Hiko continued to ignore him. Shishio had never imagined that he could toy with his opponent as easily as he had been toyed with a while ago.

"Well? To survive in this Hell the strong must prey on the weak!" He proclaimed matter-of-factly. "If you don't prey on me, you'll be the one to die. Either kill me or kill yourself… it's the only escape!"

"Escape…?" Hiko repeated to himself, bemused. The swordmaster laughed internally at the concept. _There's never an escape…_

_Even if I were to slay him and get out of here, I would still be stuck in a world filled with other lunatics. _He thought sarcastically. _There's no way I can possibly slay them all… _

_Damn… why does this world have to give every single madman a reason to pursue his own twisted logic?_ Hiko gave a sigh. Thoughts like these made him want to drink sake, _again_… The swordmaster pour himself a saucer. Shishio watched him intently.

"That's right, trash, have as much of the stuff as you like!" He gloated. "The more you drink, the better it is for me. Perhaps if you managed to get drunk, you might actually work up the guts to kill me in cold blood… haha!"

_Kill him… ? _Hiko thought again as he sipped his sake, oblivious to Shishio's ranting. _Were I still an apprentice under my master…_He mused. ..._Perhaps I would have cut down this man without a thought… _

His mind wandered back to the days when he did not really care. _It was a long time ago, though…_

* * *

_(Flashback)_

Hiko Seijuro the 12th sat at the riverbank, holding a fishing rod. Long white hair and red collar floating in the breeze, he kept half an eye on the stream before him. His thoughts, as usual, were on the headache he called his apprentice.

_Ah, here he comes again… _He almost cringed as he felt a familiar presence approach. _Doesn't the lad ever get tired?_ He groaned internally. The boy was damn persistent when it came to swordsmanship, as well as asking questions. The two together made for a big headache.

"Shishou?" His bothersome apprentice finally decided to make his presence known.

"Silence! Can't you see I'm fishing?" Snapped Hiko. "You'll scare away the fish…"

"Actually Shishou," The apprentice gave a cough. "I think you'd have better luck if you had brought some bait." He tossed a box towards the 12th master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. "Catch!"

Hiko shot a murderous glance at the smirking boy behind him. He knew it. The lad's going to bug him again… "Is that all? Now go away…" He said gruffly.

"Shishou, why don't you fight anymore?" Asked the boy, intense black eyes trained on Hiko expectantly.

"Why do you keep asking me this stupid question?" Hiko almost yelled. "Focus on your training! I don't want to see you until you've finished those 1000 sword strokes… now go!

"I've already finished them." Said the boy. He let the river breeze stir his damp shoulder-length black hair for a while, and pressed on. "Why won't you tell me, Shishou?"

Hiko Seijuro sighed. His favorite retort was buying him less and less time every day… It used to take his apprentice a whole day to finish those gazillion strokes… that was, if he hadn't passed out first… but now it's down to three hours. If anything, he suspected all that additional swinging had only made his apprentice buffer around the biceps.

_Perhaps it's finally time to face the inevitable…_ He thought.

"What is it that you want to know so badly, anyway?" He said wearily.

Taking his cue, the boy sat down next to Hiko.

"Well Shishou, this whole retirement thing?" He began. "I think it bothers you a lot."

"Are you kidding?" Scoffed Hiko. " If I wasn't so busy training my pathetic pupil, I would have taken only a moment to slaughter those bandits outside like so many flies." Said the old man vehemently, even though the passion with which he said it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I know that, Shishou." Said his pathetic pupil, unperturbed. " I've heard stories of you from the villagers… as well as from the travelers. You are Hiko Seijuro-sama, the legendary hero, the one who is supposed to save them all. You are physically fit enough to deal with whatever I can think of, and you are teaching me a sword style meant to protect people. Yet, you shut yourself away from the world and pretend you don't care. I don't think you are very happy about it."

Hiko put a hand to his forehead to ward off the impending headache. _Why does he have to be so damn perceptive? If only I had picked a dumber apprentice…_

"You are over thinking things. If you're so fond of analyzing stuff, play a game of go or something in town. It will give your brain something to do before it overheats." His voice was almost pleading.

"I'm pretty comfortable here, thank you." The boy stood his ground. "Shishou, I think if you told me, it would be better for you in the long run… that is, unless it's something that is bad for me. In that case, hiding it from me will only cause me to wonder excessively."

Hiko sighed. _The boy thinks too much. He will probably figure it out on his own eventually… _

He looked his apprentice in the eye for the first time. "I guess teaching you the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu has been a mistake to start with." He said softly.

"You have told me that many times, Shishou." Said the boy, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the comment. "You could have just shown me the door anytime you wanted."

Hiko allowed himself a rare smile. "Just this once, I'm serious. Why did you want to learn swordsmanship to start with?"

"You know the answer very well, Shishou. I want to protect people with it." The boy thought for a second, and continued. "And of course, failing that, I guess my skills should be adequate to get my own sorry self out of trouble, and take care of you in your old age."

Hiko bit back a curse at the last comment. "Why, of course." He said sourly. "That's very considerate of you, but I think you won't be having any problems with the latter two."

"You have a lot of faith in me, for a change." The boy gave a slight smirk.

"I'm not senile." Muttered Hiko under his breath. "You're good at the Art… you have the intuition and cunning for it. Do you think I can't tell that you're holding back while we spar?"

For the first time, the boy looked genuinely surprised by his comment. Hiko continued:

"And you have the build for it too… by the time you're twenty, not a soul will be able to restrain you." He fingered a fold of his white mantle gently. "I doubt even this mantle can…"

"What about you, Shishou?"

Hiko was silent for a few moments. Then he spoke slowly, a chuckle barely concealed beneath his tone, as if revealing a joke he had been keeping to himself for a long time:

"I was amazingly clumsy as an apprentice--- in fact, my master died convinced that the Art would end with me. I never asked any questions either. I was too absorbed in training to care. It's a good thing. By the time I was twenty, each fight was still a challenge. That's how bad I was. Yet, by the time I was thirty, every villain had become no more than a joke. I was virtually unstoppable." He paused to take a breath.

"That's the power of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu."

"What stopped you, then?" Said the boy, nonplussed.

"I started out as an idealistic fool." Said the old man with a nostalgic smirk. "I believed that if I did the right things nothing would ever bother me. But the reality is never that simple. To wield the sword of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu is to accept the burden."

"Are you sorry?"

"No." Said Hiko abruptly. "Even if I had to do everything all over again, I wouldn't have done it differently. Nevertheless, in the end, a sword is a sword, and a life is a life. Everything else is meaningless."

"Was that why you took me in and trained me?" Asked the boy. "Because it still means a lot to me?"

The old man did not answer his question. His gaze was trained on something in the distant past.

"Listen, lad. To use the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, you need more than the art of the sword. You also need a heart of the sword." He said, with emphasis.

"A heart of the sword?" The boy looked confused.

"A heart that believes that one's sword can accomplish the impossible."

"The impossible?"

Hiko suddenly scowled. "I have told you far too much! From now on, don't ask me the question ever again." He sighed. "Just try not to repeat my mistake. When it's your turn, pick a dumb student… a dumb and puny one, preferably. He'll never get close to achieving the impossible, but at least he'll keep trying. Now leave me be!"

He watched his apprentice scamper away with some relief. _I should have taught him the succession technique by now… _He thought …_but it won't hurt to let him be a kid for a little while longer…_

_(End of flashback)_

* * *

_Heart of the Sword…_

_Kenshin…_ Thought Hiko Seijuro the 13th, rolling the bitter word in his mind again.

_Well Shishou, I did pick the perfect apprentice. I knew he would spend his life wielding his sword for the people… unlike you and me, who have lost all faith in this world._

His thoughts kept returning to the lavender scarf he saw one day, strung over a wooden cross in a familiar graveyard.

_What have you done with the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Kenshin? Have you killed even more than this evil man here? I know you'd never dream of doing such a thing, but perhaps, in the end…_

Hiko closed his eyes.

_Good or evil, the only path is chaos… and the only escape is solitude. _

_(To be continued…)_

_Author's note: Sorry to have kind of a stalemate in this chapter…Hiko doesn't feel he's in danger yet (plus, he needs some Prozac), and Shishio's just staking it out… but I promise to get some action on board soon in the next chapter!_


	5. Wake Up Call

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all its characters don't belong to me! 

_Author's notes: So I've finally found a better title! (hopefully?) "Winter Moon" (Kikyousen Fuyutsuki) is thought to be the name of Hiko Seijuro's sword, the rough translation being "Winter Moon of Kikyou's Spirit" (What a mouthful! No wonder he never mentioned it...)_

_Thanks a lot for reading! Also, my account seems to be working now… so a cheer for ffnet also!_

_Sorry for the slow update…as promised there's finally some action here!_

* * *

**Wake-Up Call**

A faint wind and a spike of ki warned Hiko of a blade plunging for his right shoulder from behind. He snapped out of his contemplation.

_This man sure is impatient… _He thought.

He swiveled to the left, causing Shishio's slash to miss widely and hit the ground. Before the ex-hitokiri could react, the white-caped swordsman had swiveled back to his original position, ramming an elbow into Shishio's stomach, while his other hand smacked down upon the lodged blade in a fist. The sword shattered as its owner went flying backwards.

The ex-hitokiri crunched into the ground a good distance away. Hiko threw a glance behind his shoulder in contempt.

"If this kind of sneak attack helped establish the Meiji, I'm not surprised they want to cover it up so badly."

Despite the painful blow, Shishio got up and dusted himself off. For a man of his endurance, it was barely a nudge.

"A sneak attack? Don't be stupid…" Chuckled the ex-hitokiri, straightening his kimono with style. He tossed the hilt of the broken sword from his hand with a casual flick. "If I were serious I wouldn't attack you with this crappy police sword anyway. I just needed to make sure you're not sleeping. That will make things too unexciting. I want you to have your nightmare of me awake."

"Nightmare of you?" Hiko gave a cold laugh. "If you ever made it into my dreams, I'd be so bored that I'd wake up."

Shishio only smirked in response. "Good to see you in a better mood, trash. But don't forget we're still in this little Hell together… until one of us dies."

Hiko gave no response to the comment. Stony silence fell once more. Hiko continued to drink his sake. Shishio retreated to his corner and finished the rest of his arm of the law. He cupped a hand under his chin and began replaying the last few blows he exchanged with Hiko in his mind, searching for a weakness.

_Strange…_He noted. _He could have just leapt aside and evaded the slash if he knew it wasn't serious. Yet he expended more energy than necessary to break my sword and fling me off. What could be the reason?…  
_

He studied the scene quietly, assassin's intuition working. His eyes lit up as they fell upon the prone form of Soujiro next to Hiko. _That's it! He must be trying to keep me away from Soujiro… but why would he do that? Of course… he's probably afraid that I might eat the boy or something... _

_Hmm… I should have thought of this earlier. It just didn't occur to me that one as strong as him can be as idiotic._

Shishio pondered how the information could serve him best. _We're trapped here without food or water, _He assessed the situation. _Soujiro will have to serve as my meal sooner or later. Besides, if I kill him now, my enemy will probably be completely demoralized without a purpose in his life. I can destroy him simply by destroying Soujiro!_

_Ha! This is so easy that it's almost a joke…_

Turning his back on Hiko, Shishio began to make preparations to kill the helpless Tenken.

* * *

Hiko had just finished his sake when he sensed Shishio charging towards him again, sword scraping along the ground. 

_He never tires of this trick… _He thought wearily. _Can't he work at a circus or something?_

The air became a crackling inferno as Shishio sent trail after trail of flames at Hiko's direction.. Hiko was about to swat the fire spirits again when he saw Shishio pull something that looked like a bunch of gloves from the inside of his kimono. Ignoring Hiko, the ex-hitokiri chucked it at Soujiro with all his might as he sent another fire spirit after the bundle, a deranged smile on his face.

Hiko cursed. _So he won't spare the boy after all…_ Accelerating to full speed in an instant, Hiko's lightening-fast charge sheared through the flames around him like a curtain, as the large swordsman raced to intercept Shishio's projectile before it could hit the Tenken. Shishio watched in sadistic glee when a flash of white clashed with the blinding blast of his _Guren Kaina_.

"Fool! I've packed enough gunpowder there to blow a man apart…" He crowed. The ensuing explosion reverberated through the square. Shishio's sentence was drowned out by the roar of the fireball that followed.

A second later, smoke and scraps of falling white cloth filled the air, followed by a thud of something heavy hitting the ground. Shishio's malicious grin became a little more subdued when he contemplated the demise of his prey.

_Something's wrong… _He frowned. _There isn't the aroma of burnt flesh…_

He swung around wildly, just in time to see the supposedly pulverized swordsman hurtle from the sky, landing gracefully behind him. The man looked a little less than graceful himself, as he was covered with dust and ashes. His left hand gripped Soujiro by the collar. The boy dangled almost like a limp kitten next to Hiko, whose sleek gigantic frame betrayed long training in an art designed for extreme force and speed.

Beneath his dark bangs, the older swordsman's black eyes blazed with rage. For the first time, Shishio felt his prey's ki snap fully on alert. The thrill of finally meeting the swordsman's spirit of his rival head-to-head pumped more adrenaline into Shishio's supersaturated blood. Even his dismay upon finding Hiko alive suddenly faded into insignificance. Shishio's eyes widened with joy.

"Hmm. So you hurled your coat to block the brunt of the explosion." He said, clapping his hands. "I'm glad about that! For someone worthy enough to be a challenge I should have expected no less."

"Well, you certainly have my full attention now." Spat Hiko. For a moment Shishio wondered if the light was playing tricks with his eyes. The Hiten Mitsurugi master had appeared large in the garish cloak. Without it, he virtually _loomed._ It was as if the man had just squeezed out of a tiny room with a low ceiling and was able to rise to his full height for the first time. Shishio's surprise was short-lived, though. The ex-hitokiri had decided that not much was going to impress him at this point.

_Trying to intimidate me again, huh?_ He gave a mental laugh. _Hmph. I know you too well to buy that..._

"So? What are you going to do… kill me?" He almost screeched in hilarity. "Are you going to contradict your own principles? If you saved Soujiro then you should save me too. After all, I am just a human being like him! Haha..."

He calmed himself a little, and continued in a scathing tone. "Seriously, listen: I was just doing you and this world a favor by getting rid of him. Why?… Soujiro is as bloodthirsty as me, if not more so! He might be young, but he killed his whole family without faking a tear about it. I'm sure he will kill you in a blink if he gets the chance, and that will ruin all my fun! Secondly, since he can't defeat a piece of trash like you, he, too, is trash and might as well die. Can't you see I'm serving everyone's best interests by removing him? You should at least thank me for it."

Hiko's smoldering gaze did not waver at Shishio's words. "I have no interest in anything, and neither am I contradicting my principles." He spoke, voice cold and devoid of emotion. "However, you are about to die, so I don't need to reason with you."

His hand reached for his sword, then stopped. Releasing his left hand suddenly, he dropped the Tenken in an unceremonious heap on the ground.

"You're awake." He announced harshly. "So stand on your own now. I've had enough hurling you around."

Shishio's lips twisted into a malicious smile as he watched the Tenken crawl up slowly. _Aha… just when I need him… _He thought.

Soujiro's eyes still looked dazed. His hair had been curled slightly by the heat, and the smile on his sooty face made him look even wilder than usual. He had been rudely awakened by a shockwave to find himself sailing through the air like a fish plucked by an osprey. Something had gone terribly wrong with his world today--- he had been defeated but not preyed on. Then, he was saved from death to be called a piece of trash. The Tenken's mind was in complete disarray. If he could, he would have gladly traded places with said fish.

"Ano…" He finally found his voice. "Why did you save me?" He asked Hiko meekly.

"Why?… Does there need to be a reason?" Hiko answered with a smirk. "Just be happy you're alive, kid."

"But I'm not." Said Soujiro dejectedly. His head drooped, hiding his smile. His mind suddenly raced back to a stormy night many years ago…_If only someone had saved me back then…_

Then he stopped that thought. Why should anyone do that? Everything had turned out for the better after all, as Soujiro had survived by becoming strong. _It's wrong for someone weak to be saved, _He thought. _But I'm not weak anymore. I'm strong! Yet it's even MORE wrong for someone strong to be saved…_

Soujiro's mind became increasingly confused. _No, I was defeated, so I must be weak. But if I'm weak I should be dead. That's Shishio-sama's truth!_

"I don't understand." Soujiro finally confessed, out loud. "Why didn't you kill me? There must have been some kind of a mistake."

"I'll explain everything to you, Soujiro." Interrupted Shishio. "This man here is the mistake." He pointed at Hiko. "He did not kill you because he's too weak to do it. Since you let yourself be defeated by a weakling, you too have fallen to the bottom of the food chain. Then he made a second mistake by not allowing you to die. He piled mistake upon mistake, that's why you head now hurts. If you want to know the truth, it hasn't changed at all: The strong lives, the weak dies... everything's still as simple as that!"

The familiar words brought some stability back to Soujiro's flailing mind. "So that's what I am… a mistake?" He smiled even harder, but it was not doing him any good. How long had it been since he last felt so weak and pathetic? He wondered if the weak always felt like this. Soujiro could not accept it. He gritted his teeth. _No! I've come too far to turn back now! _

Hiko regarded the two of them carefully, his obsidian gaze impassive.

"That's correct Soujiro… you're nothing but a mistake." Replied Shishio, his tone steely. "However, you don't have to give up yet--- there is still one way for you to undo the mistake and put an end to this confusion!"

Soujiro's eyes went wide.

"Kill this man with your Shuntensatsu!" Commanded his master. "Then you will restore truth to this world and become the strongest once again. Otherwise, you'll never find an answer!"

* * *

_(To be continued…)_


End file.
